


Voice

by StubbornBeast



Series: Foray into the Supernatural [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's View, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Introspection, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Ficlet, What Dean Loves About Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornBeast/pseuds/StubbornBeast
Summary: Just one of the things that Dean loves about Cas.





	Voice

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've got other stories to write, but this was itching to come out. I'm not sure I'm very satisfied with it, but it is what it is.
> 
> xo.

* * *

One of Dean's favorite things in the world was Cas's voice. 

It was the first thing that caught his attention: that deep baritone that sounded like tires over gravel, or thunder during a Kansas summer storm. The voice had pulled him in just like the hand that had pulled him off of the ground, strong and firm, yet rough with use. Dean hadn't been paying attention when walking his brother's dog, and the golden retriever had yanked him into a stranger's yard. The grass was wet and he'd slipped gracefully onto his ass. 

It caught his attention at a bar, where Dean sat despondently on a stool and worked through his third beer of the night. One of those hands landed on his shoulder and suddenly, the thunder was closer than ever before, right in his ear over the rock music thrumming in the air. That voice kept him company all night, bringing a lightness to his mood and laughter to his night. Cas' sense of humor was dry, but it still managed to get Dean to crack a smile. 

It kept him company over the phone when sleep was a mere illusion. The road was often long and barren, so that voice helped to keep him alert in ways that were appropriate and inappropriate for long-distance driving. It greeted him with morning wake-up calls and told him goodnight when all he felt was exhaustion and his memory foam beneath him. Those deep, rumbling words gave him pleasant dreams featuring thunder and bright, blue-tinged lightning. 

It cut him where it hurts, when anger clouded their vision. It said words that were immediately drawn with regret and made noises of surprise when Dean returned the favor. It disappeared and left a gaping hole in the room whenever silence overtook them, emotions so thick that words didn't come. It whispered apologies into his ear when they embraced, stitching together the wounds and forgiving one another for saying things they didn't mean, their voices gentle and kind. 

It brought him to pause in the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the archway as soothing, melodic tones filled the room. It was flat sometimes, and sometimes it softened when Cas didn't know the words, but it didn't matter. It helped remind Dean that he was home, no matter how the day had dragged him down. 

It was embedded in his memory, saying all of the things that meant the most to him. Three words said so easily to him, but that he choked on for the longest time. Two words that followed, in front of friends and family, but spoken so deeply that the emotion behind them couldn't be denied. The way it influenced laughter coming from his lips, when they were pressed against his own as they expressed their love without words. 

It whispered affections to him in the dim light of their room. It soothed him and excited him. It made his skin crawl and his heart race. It joined his own voice in cries of love and adoration, in breathless chuckles and murmured affections. 

Dean loved everything about Cas, but one of his favorite things about him was his voice.


End file.
